Blood Bank
by Dawn of Chaos
Summary: Vanitas planned to go home in a buzzed stupor, but she has a much better idea than letting him get away from her clutches.


The door to the bar swings shut behind the young man as he begins walking down the street. With golden eyes slightly glazed and his head in a fog, he lets his legs carry him, not quite remembering if he's going the right way. His hand trembles as it combs through his ebony spikes from the chill that shoots up his spine. In his stupor he doesn't so much as acknowledge it; he merely shoves his hands into the pockets of his acid-washed, gray jeans.

The frigid wind cuts through the trench coat wrapped around his body. But his senses still ebb away with dull warmth, allowing his legs to continue their shuffle down the street. The sky above him forebodes with a warning of chilling wind and frozen ice, trying to show that he should have stayed home. He simply turns down a back alley, hoping to take this shortcut home and not knowing of the obstruction ahead of him.

Three A.M. shadows stretch across the brick walls, quivering in the light from the lamps at each end of the alley. A thud echoes toward him, his eyes scanning ahead of him in vain. The light from his cell phone illuminates that of an extremely pale hand, the skin looking tight and dehydrated. The edge of the light touches that of the toe of a violet high-heel on a petite foot. Slim legs disappear under the hem of a lavender dress that brushes over her knee caps. The short sleeves hang onto the edges over her shoulders while the bodice dips down in an oval, showing the top of her milky white skin.

He struggles to understand what's going on in his diluted state of mind. All his mind can register are the crimson eyes glaring at him through a veil of long, silver hair. He smiles at her, wanting to brush away the tresses crossing over the left side of her face. A smirk crawls onto his countenance as he steps around the man he believes to be passed out at her feet.

"It's dangerous for a pretty girl to be walking around a city with all these drunks."

She's turns away from him, perfectly intending on walking away. "Wouldn't that include you?"

His free hand stretches out to let his fingers wrap around her wrist, forcing her to stay put for the moment. "Come on, lighten up a little. The name's Vanitas. Now, how bout you let me walk you home?"

In the blink of an eye Vanitas is shoved against the brick wall, her nails digging into his arms through his jacket. Just as her lips begin to part to say something back, they close along with her eyes. She backs up from him, glancing over her shoulder as she continues down the alley. "Let's go."

Completely taken aback, Vanitas grins as he rushes to catch up to her. His mind occupies only one thought as he follows her to a small house at the end of a street he's never heard of. She let's him into her home, the darkness not a problem for her as she guides him through the house with ease. Finally he's brought to a bedroom lit up with the moon shining in through a large bay window.

"You've got a pretty nice- Oof."

Vanitas bounces slightly after being shoved onto the bed, her lithe body following suit as she straddles his waist. Like clockwork his hands rest on her hips as her mouth presses forcefully against his mouth. However, he snaps his head to the side with a slight yelp as he stares up at her.

As his tongue hand slipped past her lips it had grazed over her teeth, unexpectedly making a copper taste run over his taste buds. "What was that for!"

"Blood bank."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?" Vanitas reaches up to pain against her shoulders, to get away from her long enough to think. "Fuck this, I'm out of here."

Her palms slam against his chest, knocking the air out of him as he struggles to catch his breath. The hit seems to sober him up instantaneously; the spots forced from his sight as he grabs her wrists. "Look psycho chick, I'm not afraid of a girl."

Her face leans down closer to his, their eyes locked. "You should be."

Full, pink lips part enough for the light to glint off her teeth. Vanitas stares, transfixed and filled with a slight unbelief, at the fangs that elongate before his eyes. In one swift moment he flips her over. A wide, crimson eye looks at him with confusion clouding it. "There's no way I can be awake. There's no such thing as vampires."

His arms struggle immensely to hold him up over her, elbows trembling as they try to give out from the pressure. Despite the weakness that's replacing all his energy, he feels a sort of pleasure in its wake. Her fingers curl into the hair at the base of his neck as he's pulled closer to her body. Her lips, like rose petals, press tight to the skin at the hollow of his throat while the sharp prick he had felt is no longer there.

With a sort of mindless fire coursing through his veins, Vanitas grinds his body against hers. Caught up in the moment she pulls away from his neck and forces him to meet her lips once more. This time he ignores the copper taste that fills his senses, even though his mind fights to make him realize what's happening.

For the first time he notices how cold her skin is as he kisses along her collarbone. Her hands come up to press against either side of his face, directing his line of sight back up at her. A sort of fear tries to claw at him as he stares at the red that's smeared across her mouth. His neck throbs with each beat of his heart making him realize that truth.

Vanitas tries hard to feel for a heartbeat while pressing his palm against her left breast, wanting to feel for that heartbeat. Yet his focuses sways and his back thumps against the bed once more as her body crawls up bedside his. The tiredness scratches at the walls of his determination while his golden eyes search out for her wine colored ones. The arm that lays at his side feels heavy, no such energy existing even to lift his hand or even a finger.

"Sleep... You're tired..."

"What did you do?"

A satisfied 'hmph' seems to echo in the cavern of his ears. "I made sure my blood bank won't be leaving while I sleep."

His lashes brushes against his cheekbones several times, his efforts to keep his eyes open slowly beginning to fade. The welcoming hands of darkness creep up from the corners of his eyes, which stay perfectly focused on the vampire's glowing red eyes. "Bitch."

With his eyes shut tight from exhaustion she finds it safe to let a tiny smile appear on her bloody lips. She pecks his cheek, leaving behind the mark of her lips as she does. "Fuu..." she whispers to him, her name dusted from her lips with the ease of a gentle breeze.

Without the need to get up the heavy, navy curtains are draped back over the windows in the room, a complete darkness taking over. She lies down beside him, his arm still wrapped around her waist. An ease let's her eyes fall shut and empty dreams take hold of her quickly, for having spared this 'blood bank' death, she's forced the loneliness away for a little while longer.


End file.
